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offtorivendell · 2 days

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On Elain, Gwyn and their apparent romantic worthiness.

TW: mentions of death, violent or sexual assault, infertility and pregnancy/childbirth related trauma. Please do not proceed if these topics bother you.

Disclaimer: please, please engage with this post with kindness. I promise I am not writing it to stir the pot, but because I - and many others - are fed up with seeing hurtful and harmful rhetoric spewed by the fandom, yet having no back up when dealing with it. Word vomit incoming, I'm sorry. This has been bothering me for a while.

My love to everyone who has been hurt by things they've read in this fandom. 💜

It's 2024 and I cannot believe we are still seeing posts, almost daily, about both of these women; all giving reasons why they cannot possibly be with Azriel. And I don't mean the debatable but utterly harmless discussions about Elain not looking good in black or Gwyn blabbing to Merrill when asked not to. Whatever, go nuts. I mean the truly horrific takes based around things these two women have had no control.

Now, my post history makes it very obvious where I stand in terms of ships, and yes, I'm well aware I've spoken before about the inherent power imbalance - that I perceive - which would exist if Azriel ever became involved with any of the priestesses in the women's shelter he is charged with protecting (to be clear, that's not me suggesting that Gwyn and her story isn't powerful, or powerful representation to those who see themselves in her, nor is it personal to Gwyn, or indicative of any of the sheltered priestesses and their ability to heal; it's purely a function of Azriel's position of authority over their sanctuary). I want to reiterate that my stating my feelings about this was never done with the intent to shame people who do ship them; we all ship who we like, and real world ethics should rarely come into it.

That being said, the following, in my opinion, is one of those times.

Firstly, I just want to say that lived experience informs how we interpret fiction, so please let me clarify something: the people who have said that they don't think Gwyn is ready for a relationship yet, and that NSFW fan art of her with anyone makes them uncomfortable, are not in any way in the wrong. They're simply the other side of the coin to those who find it empowering, and both are valid responses, often related to personal trauma. The problem lies with those very few who say that Gwyn could never have a romantic relationship, and call those who talk and/or post about it "gross." Some have called her "damaged goods." This is absolutely wrong and whoever is doing it needs to stop.

The entire fandom, even those who find romantic or NSFW content involving Gwyn uncomfortable to consume, frequently acknowledges that her trauma doesn't define her, and of course she should be able to enjoy love whenever she feels ready for it. Those who say otherwise are readily condemned from all corners. I've seen it happen and called the people out myself, as have many other Elriel shippers when necessary. However, Elriels are still very regularly and very publicly blamed for the actions of a few (some of whom I truly believe are burner accounts wanting to cause chaos, with their Elriel themed usernames and no post history), despite our largely collective action to call them out when we see it.

Could we do better? Absolutely, but so can you!

Because, on the other hand, I've noticed that, whenever I or others have tried to explain why the pliable bones "theory" - which attempts to reason that Elain could never be endgame with Azriel, as she and any baby would die during the course of pregnancy or childbirth - is equally as harmful, we are met with people publicly and wholeheartedly refusing to understand why (especially recently). Some horrific comments have been made to my friends, not to mention all of those I see well after the fact, which are never widely condemned by any but us. People will argue back that we're wrong, and have even suggested we're weaponising infertility! On Mothers' Day, of all the fucking painful days to say that.

Some of the push back I've seen recently includes:

"Nobody has said Elain is infertile."

No, nobody has, and that's not what we're saying or have ever said. We know you don't think this, as the Elucien fandom loves to write and draw Elain and Lucien's hypothetical future children (which is super understandable, as this is a romantasy fandom after all - no shame, enjoy your warm fuzzies).

What we are saying is that, if it's true that Elain's anatomy wasn't changed as Feyre and Nesta's was - and to be clear I cannot stand that entire plot, I wish SJM had chosen literally any other reason why Feyre's pregnancy was dangerous, as it is simultaneously degrading and doesn't fit with her previously established lore - then Elain and Azriel, together^, would be functionally infertile. Yet it's only ever framed as Elain's body not being able to work with Azriel's, never the other way around.*

^Why didn't the bat boys have to sacrifice their wings to keep their wives/mates safe? Why did the women have to change their anatomy? Because it would make it harder for them to be all powerful? Well Nesta sacrificed her powers! Why not just have Feyre be cursed by an enemy or something, and Nesta found a way to use the Dread Trove to save them all. Ugh. I love SJM's books, but this was such a miss.

*HOSAB/HOFAS SPOILER: funnily enough, this was never said about Ruhn and his eventual mate, even though he actually did think he may be unable to father children, thanks to the Oracle's prophecy. People shipped the hell out of him and a couple of different women throughout the CC series, despite the chance he could never get them pregnant.

"People haven't called Elain damaged goods, so it's not the same. We're allowed to not like her."

My faerie porn* lover in christ, what the fuck do you think the pliable bones "theory" is actually doing? It is suggesting that Elain's hypothetical inability to survive having children with Azriel, and for those children to also survive childbirth, is impaired. Ergo, she's damaged.

We don't care if you don't like Elain, we're allowed to have different preferences in characters and ships. That has never been the problem.

*I use this term with affection as a great lover of the genre.

But "damaged" vs a functionally "impaired" uterus? It's the same damn thing, and sorry, it's misogynistic af, not to mention ableist and homophobic at a minimum. In the same breath you are also reducing your favourite to her apparently functional uterus (even though the pliable bones argument is medically inaccurate, by the way - this is really damning of the state of health education across so many countries).

"Hahaha/lol."

Yes, I have seen people laugh and treat this as a joke. As recently as tonight, in fact. It's disgusting.

Regardless of your lived experiences and shipping preferences, both of these takes about Elain and Gwyn are equally degrading and horrific and need to stop, but if you're only calling out the comments that hurt you/your friends/your ship and not the others, then you should maybe attempt some basic self reflection and analyse those double standards you're carrying.

This entire fandom needs to do better. I'll say again, for the umpteenth time, to any of my fellow Elriels that if you think mocking Gwyn's past is funny, then you're not mature enough to read an adult series. But this works both ways, and if you think mocking infertility is funny/use it as a win, then you're just as immature. I would really and truly appreciate it if we were not left alone to argue over and over again why discriminating against someone who couldn't "have a man's children" is wrong, and why many, many people in this adult fandom - that is largely comprised of women! - might find such a theory, and the resulting discourse, incredibly upsetting.

Infertility hurts; not having a kid when you want one can be viscerally painful. Besides that, I know very few people who have given birth who don't carry around some sort of emotional or physical trauma from doing so. Treating a character's hypothetical infertility with one man as a joke is gross.

Please don't call Gwyn "damaged goods" or suggest that Azriel would choose somebody else over Elain because she couldn't have his kids.

They are the same thing.

It's not hard to be kind. Pain is not a competition.

We should all do better, and take care of each other.

#acotar

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nnight-dances · 13 hours

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EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?"

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences.

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall.

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't.

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later.

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room.

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally.

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well."

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set."

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away.

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him.

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands.

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep.

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model.

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room.

–

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away.

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with.

nana: another stupid article :(

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad.

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years.

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run.

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream.

–

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar.

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually."

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye.

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?"

–

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends.

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question.

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?"

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go.

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it.

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!"

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter.

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again.

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system.

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder.

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?"

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand.

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right."

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?"

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind.

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here."

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case.

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough.

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why.

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead.

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you."

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?"

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid."

"of course she was into you," you mumble.

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right."

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?"

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly.

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face.

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it."

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you."

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight."

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you."

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead.

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you."

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words.

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded.

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine."

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love."

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy."

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth.

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs.

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me."

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song."

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name.

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!"

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–"

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?"

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home."

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sourpatchsquids · 3 days

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I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IN STARS AND TIME FOR A SECOND

Okay i just finished watching my girlfriend play ISAT and I felt the urge to dig into the music a little bit and lost a whole day to it. So i think i have to post about it. General spoilers below, read at your own risk.

Ok so Im gonna talk about the title theme and one other song here, which is a secret for later. (This part took like 2 hours to cobble together ill post the other one tomorrow)

In the first statement of the melody, we have a very bog standard i -> III -> IV -> Cadential 6/4 moti-- wait a second.

With where these lines intersect, the A in the middle voice actually dips below the bass voice for the statement of this chord, which means that the chord lands in a second inversion. You wouldn't normally put a i6/4 just after a cadential 6/4 unless you were actively trying to make the resolution feel weaker for some reason. As if you intentionally wanted the listener to not feel a strong sense of returning to the tonic.

When the strings come in we are treated to lush root position 7th and 9th chords to really feel magical and detached from ourselves. Just as well, that cadential 6/4 turns into an entire tonicization for A major! I adore the way the strings milked the motion down from D to C# to C, its a perfect suspension of the old tonic into the tonicized dominant :>. The themes of not feeling at home continue from here. We get the briefest glimpse of a happy A major chord in measure 8 before we lose any sight of an A that feels at home in the harmony. Measure 10's A in the melody is completely unsupported by the G major chord underneath, and the only A's to play in measure 11 are in the bass and the frenetic synth line bouncing between left and right panning, as the upper string descend to a G and the melody completely skips over the A in otherwise stepwise line. I wonder why home is so hard to latch onto in this piece? You're only ever able to grab onto it for a little bit at a time, when you even know what you're listening for.

As we approach the end of the phrase, we finally get a reasonable resolution to the tonic! We made it! However, it is nowhere near as harmonically pleasing as it should sound. Even with the faster pulse flipping back and forth between the ears and the actual stepwise enclosure of the tonic, when a tonic chord finally rings it quickly darts back, and what we get is empty. The 3rd of the tonic is played for the length of a eighth note and is quickly kicked out of our aural memory by the staccato E in the same instrument. And then all previous accompaniment leaves, save for the strings, as the piano enters to play one last statement of the B theme. The title theme makes very clear, we are allowed to approach home, but we are not allowed to linger. As quickly as a taste of it comes about, we realize how much it tastes like nothing.

Finally, we are rewarded with another cluster of A's and E's to leave us feeling empty and full of ennui. Truly we are meant to interpret this piece as Siffrin feeling lost and alone, no home to return to, nowhere to truly rest. That about wraps up my analysi-- hey wait a fucking second.

HEY WHAT THE FUCK.

youtube

If you listen at the very end, the strings jump back up to a D chord at the very end of the piece. D, the key we originally thought we were in. This single chord completely recontextualizes the entire piece and im not kidding in the slightest. If everything that happened while we thought A was the home key was actually just elaborating the dominant, then what does it actually mean? And more importantly, why is it so quiet? What is the purpose of the final D chord, the actual end chord of the piece, when it is so removed from what feels like the real ending of the piece. It's as though it's being intentionally kept at bay, as if we as listeners are actively pushing it away. It's like song itself doesn't want to really end.

Oh.

Studio Thumpy Puppy, if any of you ever read this, please know that I am in absolute awe of your ability to bake in the themes of the story into 42 seconds of music.

Not only does the title theme convey Siffrin's emotional pain from not being able to remember his home country, it manages to tell the listener the crux of the plot before a single line of exposition hits the screen. Siffrin doesn't want his party to leave him alone, he doesn't want their journey to end. He is so desperate to prevent his party from returning home without him that he breaks the structure of the piece, hides the final chord, from his own god damn opening theme. To stop the journey from ending.

If you've gotten this far, please support the artists behind this amazing game. If you haven't bought and played ISAT yet, go do it, and while you're here, also buy the soundtrack. Give these people money!! They're really good at what they do!

Next up: We're With You! Look forward to it, it's also amazing.

#isat #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #music theory #holy shit #studio thumpy puppy #Youtube #Bandcamp

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doublel27 · 1 day

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I’ve been thinking about Moo’s very publicly r video essay ever since @petrichoraline and I were talking about Moo’s very public declaration of his relationship here and the irony is if no one had said anything to Moo there’s a chance he wouldn’t have done anything.

In episode 8, Neth and Kang had already convinced him he might need to be quiet about their relationship. Kang and Moo agreed that “as long as we know” it doesn’t matter what other people do or don’t know.

And I think it was even worse for Moo because the dance video wasn’t a declaration of anything. That’s what he states before making the Kang fan edit. The video he was asked to delete was simply just boys dancing. And as an idol, he’s gonna be dancing on stage with a lot of boys. He’s probably already posted clips with Tae and Yos as well.

And sure it’s different because Kang isn’t also out here trying to be a dancer and he is Moo’s boyfriend. But a lot of what he was being asked to tone down were things that were what Moo considers normal. And I think that’s what made him so angry when everyone asked him to take the video down. Shone and Moo’s mom didn’t know they were boyfriends from that clip. To Moo’s point that wasn’t an announcement.

And as @luthienmpl points out here it’s not like Moo didn’t very publicly court Kang at school where everyone knows he’s written Kang a song and sang it over the intercom and gave away food for people who congratulated them on being boyfriends. There’s information out there.

Moo got mad at the idea he would have to lie. And everyone was insisting they weren’t asking him to lie, but to not share. To Moo, who if the thought is in his head it’s out of his mouth, omitting facts, deleting posts because of how someone might interpret it even if it’s not explicit what the video is of, to cut parts of himself off, well that’s a lie. After being pushed too far by the repeated requests by others to be less, he snapped with the very loud video of l not only do I have a boyfriend but let me tell you all about him and why he’s perfect.

With the preview showing that the contract is going to say expressly no relationships and Moo’s determination to not lie and Kang being the bluest boy (who tend to be martyrs….I am very curious where Only Boo is going with this story. As I am curious where Thame Po will take this story as they’re doing a similar line.

Another show with a similar storyline from GMM, Be My Favorite just dropped in 2023 and I adored it, but they took a particular stance on this conundrum. You should watch it, but spoilers…in one of the futures Kawi makes for himself, he ends up an idol and is at first delighted to find himself living what he thought was an impossible dream. But it’s quickly clear that he is miserable, drinking. He had gotten his dream girl Pear, but she left him because he wouldn’t marry her and start a family. As an idol, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give her the time, attention, and public commitment she was looking for. We also find out that Piesang disappeared around the same time. It’s heavily implied after Kawi chases Piesang and kisses him drunkenly, that Kawi probably did something similar after Pear left as Piesang says “You cannot keep doing this.” (They’d had a similar moment in episode six but this made it feel like we had a bigger pattern and explained his absence)

In the final future, Kawi is happily a songwriter, making songs for other people to sing. It’s the future Kawi chose knowing where the idol path sent him. Piesang even questions him on it. He asks Kawi if he gave up on those dreams because of Piesang and Piesang offers to hide if that’s what it takes. Kawi, thanks to the power of time travel, tells Piesang he’s absolutely certain he couldn’t be happier if he traveled that path. Only misery lies that way. Kawi’s whole lesson though is about making choices in the moment that spark joy rather than letting fear or jealousy lead your choices and living a life that makes you truly happy.

Only Boo, of course, is a very different show with a very different lead. Moo is 1000 times more confident and certain than Kawi ever could hope to be. He knows what he wants and while everyone sees them as two disparate pictures, Moo sees them fully integrated. He’s also a much younger character, just out of high school and has yet to face the reality of what it means to be an idol beyond getting to do the things he loves most and feels confident about.

Thame-Po will take us somewhere entirely different with an idol at the peak of their game who signed their right to a personal life away at a much younger age.

So when confronted with a contract that explicitly says you cannot date and Moo, who has no interest in lies of omission or hiding his boyfriend, and is in fact highly reactionary to people insisting he delete rather innocuous posts incase someone wants to speculate…I am very interested in the choices that will get written in here.

It is especially interesting considering the the litany of drama that has come out of highly entitled fan reactions to social media posts and in some cases leaked videos of Thai artists in their own home. Sure, everyone is trying to “protect” Moo in theory, but entitled fans will be entitled whether you hide your personal life entirely or not. These types of fans seem to exist across fandoms of many types and with a level of wild inappropriateness regardless of how open or closed a celebrity is to others. If they post too much with someone that’s a sign. If they avoid posting with someone that’s a sign. Like…there’s no winning.

And to that point, what is the takeaway going to be for Moo as he is faced with a moral dilemma and the two things he wants most in conflict? And what is the messaging going to be from Only Boo/GMM about young idols and talent (as the two leads of this show are) and their rights to their own lives? And are we gonna talk about the extra layer of homophobia of it all or because the fact that even straight relationships seem to be a PR nightmare for some talent, that GMM/Only Boo is content to leave it ambiguous for now?

#only boo #only boo the series #kangmoo #kang x moo #mookang #be my favorite #thai bl #thai series #thai ql #asian ql #asian bl drama #gmmtv #gmmtv 2024 #gmmtv series #gmmtv actors

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 7 hours

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pleeeeaaaasee do more shane x reader (preferably gender neutral). Your writing is so good and the "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" one broke me. You're a hurt/comfort master

HAH you've given me another idea from this ask alone (insp by my farmer getting alex's 8 heart event while married to shane)

Sorry gang I swear fluffier stuff with Shane is coming

.....

It was just a few days into summer, and Shane already had plans to change up his usual routine once again.

Ever since moving onto your farmland, he found himself getting more motivated to take longer walks. This morning, he planned on doing so after ensuring the crops were watered and the animals were well-fed.

He greeted the cows, rabbit, pigs, and chickens as they filed out of the coop and barn one-by-one, not letting any of them miss their daily pets. Seeing the ostrich and little green dinosaur emerge didn't faze him as much as it did the first time he saw them--he still had no clue how you acquired their eggs (especially one from the skull caverns), but you didn't treat them any differently.

They were both lovable creatures. Just like the blue chickens he introduced you to several months ago.

Knowing you raised some and kept them on the farm made him beam with pride, glad he got to stay here and help run things in your steed.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

You set off for the beach earlier than usual today, having left a note on the table, and Shane opted to just hang back and repair some of the fences that were looking a bit worn out.

According to the TV, it was a "good luck day", and you hoped to find fortune in the form of a rainbow shell washed up on the coast. You certainly loved foraging them, but even if there weren't any around, you figured you'd go fishing.

Your husband wasn't the best at either skill, although a few hours after you left, he felt a little bored and decided to go visit the beach. Maybe you could use his moral support since other people--mainly Willy and Elliot-mentioned hearing you curse like a sailor when you were wrestling with a fish...or when said fish escaped your line.

He could be there to cheer you up, or teasingly bet on how many joja cola cans you'll fish out of the ocean.

That would be pretty funny, he thought.

So he headed off on his usual walking route, but instead of going to Cindersap Forest or stopping by Pelican Town's river, he ventured towards the beach, greeting whoever said "hello" to him.

Upon arrival, however, Shane stopped in his tracks as he noticed you weren't entirely alone on the beach.

It wasn't Willy, Elliot, Leah, nor that parrot kid you rescued from Ginger Island, but Alex.

He wouldn't have minded that so much....if not for the fact that you two were sitting awfully close together on the coast, overlooking the foamy waves. You were totally oblivious to his presence, so he hung back with suspicion.

Of course, he knew you were growing more sociable with the rest of the villagers, and he didn't want your marriage to be the reason you stopped talking to people.

Even so..something didn't feel right about this, especially as he watched you move closer to Alex, putting an arm around him. And when the younger male put his head on your shoulder, Shane's heart dropped.

You were talking, but obviously he couldn't make out what you were saying thanks to the noisy waves and annoying seagulls.

At this point, however, it became clear what was going on.

And it made him feel utterly sick to his stomach, his mind constantly circling back to one conclusion. Only one explanation as to why you'd ever be that close to Alex, and perhaps why you've been frequently leaving the farm earlier than normal:

You were seeing him behind his back, thinking he'd never find out.

He didn't know how else to interpret that. How else could he?

But of everybody in this town, why did it have to be the guy who reminded him of his youthful days in gridball?

The guy who radiated positivity and was always in high spirits?

The guy who wasn't old and weak and depressed...like him?

'I knew it..they finally got bored of me. But why would they do this?' Scowling, he felt like storming over and saying something, but he couldn't will himself to freak out here and now.

No.

Why bother?

Instead he decided to turn on his heel and storm back to the farm, nearly tripping over a rainbow shell as he did so. The saloon was closed, so he couldn't escape there...but he'll settle for rotting in bed until you come home.

You'll be back, and he'll confront you then.

.......

Coming back to the farmland around noon, you frowned a bit as you didn't see Shane anywhere outside. He wasn't at the mini coop like he normally was, and poor Charlie was looking for him.

"Where did he go, Charles? Hm?" With a soft coo, you kneeled down to pet the chicken. She clucked, her beak pointing towards the cabin, and you thanked her with a small handful of corn before continuing inside.

However, as soon as you stepped into a rather quiet house, all the excitement sapped out of you. You'd normally hear him playing video games or watching a Tunneler's game, but as you entered your shared bedroom...you found him just laying down, his back turned to you.

"Hey, honey." You sighed, relieved as you sat down on the mattress. "All that farmwork got tiring, huh? I understand. Thank you for doing it."

"........."

"..Shane? You still asleep?"

There was a long silence, only for it to be broken by a quiet sniffle, and your heart sunk, wondering what happened. "Hey, what's wrong-?"

As you put a hand on his shoulder, Shane flinched and rolled over to face you, his eyes red and watery, and his expression full of disgust...as though you did something wrong.

You've never seen him get this angry at you. Not since your first meeting with him. "Baby-?"

"No. Enough petnames, [y/n]." He huffed, sitting up and staring at you with contempt. "You don't get to act like everything's fine. Like I don't know what's really going on."

"...what?"

"Why were you with Alex today? Did he convince you I wasn't good enough for you anymore? That I'm past my prime?"

You blinked in bewilderment, wondering how on earth he knew that and why he was getting so upset. "Wha..you were at the beach? Why didn't you tell me?"

"That's..not important." He grumbled. "If you love him more, fine. Just tell me. I was ready for the day you'd finally get sick of me. But..to do that behind my back...I just..." Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he clutched the mermaid pendant with a shaky hand. "I thought you were different..but I was wrong."

Now you were totally lost, heart racing as you tried to wrack your brain for any reason he'd assume that you were cheating on him with Alex. You knew he had some major jealousy issues, and he's been actively working through them with his therapist, but it was never this bad.

"Listen, I promise that what you saw isn't what it-"

"You don't have to lie. I get it. He's young, better looking...he's everything I used to be. So why don't I just go and you can have him live on this farm with you? At least he won't be a burden. At least he won't-"

"Shane just stop. Stop." You raised your voice, growing infuriated. "What in the hell made you think I wanna be with Alex when we're married?! When I've been nothing but there for you since I moved to town?! If you let me finish, I'll explain everyth-"

"Oh I'm sure you have a "perfect" explanation already lined up." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you can tell me why you were that close to him, I don't see why I'm even-"

"Today's the anniversary of his mom's death."

Shane blinked once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

"Wha..?"

"She passed away 12 years ago." Frowning slightly, you watched his expression shift wildly. "Alex was sitting there, crying his eyes out, and I just...wanted to comfort him. Like any friend would do. That's all."

At this moment, Shane felt like the biggest piece of shit in the valley, and his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to say.

"We just hugged, and he told me about the good memories they had," you continued, moving closer to put a hand over his own. "Cross my heart, absolutely nothing was going on between us, honey. You really think I'd do that to you? To the man I love?"

"....I....I didn't know he lost his mom.." He mumbled, still at a loss for words.

"Well it's not exactly something he'd share with the whole town. And I was gonna keep it between us, but you wouldn't let me explain myself." You reminded him with a small huff, and he looked down in guilt.

As quickly as your anger rose, however, it was quick to disappear as you watched him. He seemed very torn up and ashamed for accusing you of cheating, but you could understand his perspective and why he saw it in that light.

You would've been suspicious, too.

"Look..I know it did look like something else was going on. And I'm really sorry-"

"No, no..I should be sorry for acting like a total dickhead." Shane gazed back up at you, and his face tore your heart to shreds. "I didn't mean to freak and accuse you of anything. You were just comforting a kid who lost his mom and...I got angry for no reason. Without hearing your side. I shouldn't be like this..yet I feel like some bitter old man.."

"Hey, you're not old." You shook your head, cupping both sides of his cheeks and giving him a gentle kiss. "You're barely 30."

"Still..my body feels that way." He lightly chuckled, enveloping you in a tight hug. "And again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, [y/n]...I promise I'm working on these stupid jealousy issues."

"I know you are, and I forgive you." Smiling, you squeezed him tight. "We're gonna be okay."

"Mhm..also..um..I found something for you." He let you go and dug into his jacket pocket for an unknown item, and when he presented it to you, the grin on your face was infectious.

"Oh my god..you found one for me?!!" Your eyes lit up, as you now held a beautiful rainbow shell in your hands.

Shane nodded. "Iridium quality."

"You're the best. I love you." Laughing, you brought him back into a hug, giving him a few more kisses. "And you said you sucked at foraging, huh?"

"Ah, well..just the "chopping trees" part. Picking stuff off the ground is easy." He shrugged, his smile bashful. "Glad you like it, sweetheart. Take it as my apology for that..um..misunderstanding."

"I forgive you a thousand times over. Now..I think I'll display this beauty in our aquarium. What do you think, Shane?"

"I think I'll go with and see."

You both hopped out of bed and headed over to where you kept the aquarium tanks, with Shane in better spirits than he was before.

He still felt guilty for acting that way towards you, but your everlasting patience and persistence with him prevails.

He's glad he picked up that rainbow shell for you.

#clanask #anonymous #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #stardew valley shane x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #tw death mention

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ooihcnoiwlerh · 22 hours

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I have provided fresh meat, my Darlings!

The link to the entire fic as well as the new chapter is provided above.

@blazeflays @wo-ming-bai @richardslady121 Also please let me know if you would also liked to be tagged with updates!

CW: dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced marriage; forced pregnancy; rough sex; implied/referenced child abuse; blood kink; problematic smut; implied/referenced sexual abuse; implied/referenced torture

Chapter summary: Feyd-Rautha and the Reader look at each other and think, "They need work, but it's fine. I'm training them."

Chapter Notes:

-This chapter doesn't have quite as much plot or action and is generally more introspective/kind of shows a turning point and transition to both the Reader starting to learn to play the game and Feyd-Rautha seeking to challenge and unnerve her. Basically the Reader thinking, "I don't think I can reasonably make him better but I can make him treat me better" and Feyd thinking, "I can make her worse😈" -There have been a lot of interpretations of Feyd-Rautha's Darlings given that there's little information we're really given within the movie and I really like the theory that I've seen going around that they're effectively animals with human bodies that were experimented on by the Bene Tleilax.

CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU'RE LEARNING

You wake up early the next morning to your morning coffee and a reminder of your mother’s advice. She dispensed it more than once over the years, enough that you were able to repeat it verbatim: sometimes a person isn’t a person, but an obstacle. Sometimes they’re obstacles that you need to face, problems that you need to solve. Find out what they need that you can use to get ahead.

So what does Feyd-Rautha want and how do you get it for him in order to temper him, make him more amenable to you? He’s made clear at this point what he doesn’t want: compassion that he’s undoubtedly misconstrued as pity, any reminders of his childhood and adolescence, and any insinuations–intentional or otherwise–that he’s inadequate as a man.

That leaves what he does want from you, and for the most part you think you know. He wants you to have his children, and that’s in progress if not now, then soon. He wants, well, other than last night, he’s been transparent that he wants you , carnally if for nothing else.

He also wants you to properly learn to fight at the level he wants, and there’s no way it’s just for your sake, or even wanting you to stay safe as the mother of his future children. Those are a given.

You can’t forget the way he’d gotten hard during your training and the way he spoke about it later. You hadn’t seen it in the arena when he was slashing throats with theatricality and precision but little else, but this must be intimate for him. It doesn’t surprise you once you think about it; a man who enjoys the taste of your blood would most certainly get off on getting a knife at your throat, even if he’s not allowed to cut it.

So how do you use that? The Reverend Mother Mohiam all but stated that seduction was the key to tempering and subduing him into something you can handle but that’s easier said than done. You’ve understood on some level for years now that you’d one day have to learn to use your sex as a tool, but it’s easier to implement in theory rather than practice. The limited experience you’ve had before this–kisses both stolen and given freely at night when you’d slipped away unsupervised, fondling over the clothes, above the waist, and once grasping and sliding your hand over a boy you’d liked as he’d panted and moaned directions at you and you’d frantically tried to finish him off before either of you could get caught--weren’t for an agenda but for its own enjoyment. Before your wedding night the only person who’d dared go beneath your skirts was you. And then, of course, you’re reasonably certain that most men don’t keep an entire armoire of devices to use or have used on them while in bed, that most men aren’t eager to taste their wife’s blood, that most men don’t carry around the kind of shame and buried anger that your husband does wrapped in a deep-seated need to hurt and be hurt.

But that’s the hand that you’ve been dealt, and the only leverage you’ll be getting out of this marriage is by appealing to those desires and using your own body as a tool to keep him satiated and keep you in the best of his care.

By the time you’ve finished plaiting your hair you’ve decided that you’ve learned enough since your wedding night that you can try and use to your advantage. You’ll keep adapting and if one of the ways to win him over is at knifepoint, then so be it.

And if he wants to banish everyone from the Training Halls so he can rut into you like an animal next to a rack of knives, then fine. You can take him however he comes to you.

You try to keep all this in mind as you leave your chambers and take to the Training Halls for another lesson.

Feyd-Rautha already appears to have broken a sweat. Drills, you assume, and done alongside his men if their matching sheens are anything to go by.

Korvo’s back to train you, he says. He needed to have part of his jaw wired shut but otherwise he’s fine; he just won’t be able to talk much for a while.

And strangely enough it’s true; whatever Healer Korvo went to did an excellent job because there’s not a lot of bruising or swelling. It occurs to you that he looks a few years older than Feyd, and you can’t help but wonder what Korvo thought about the hushed rumors about the Baron’s proclivities years ago. About Feyd-Rautha, the boy who’s become the man he now serves.

As for your husband, it’s as if the past couple of nights never happened. He seems indifferent as he hands you your shield device and a knife. There’s not a trace of the quiet rage from early yesterday morning nor the cold domination of last night. Not that you were ever going to ask him, especially not with other people around, but he gives you your answer to the silent question, When are we going to talk about yesterday? The answer? Never .

He has Korvo start off slowly with you, a warm-up of sorts, movements guarded as you go over strikes and parries before taking over for the rest of your session.

You think you’re prepared for it this time as he starts to speed up, stops going through the motions and actually starts sparring with you. You tell yourself that no one’s going to catch you unawares again, but well. His training is a lot more extensive than yours. You let out a yelp, realizing yet again that you weren’t focused enough on his footwork and he’s taken the opportunity to trip you. You stumble, catching yourself just in time to avoid a fall.

“You’ve had a day to rest,” Feyd says. “There’s no reason you can’t be pushed farther.”

To rest . He was the one that told you not to come and train yesterday. You clench your jaw and strike again. If anything Feyd-Rautha seems amused by your irritation and sends you stumbling again with a swat on the backside with the flat of his knife.

You turn, incredulous and with an insult on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t strike in anger,” he says, holding back a smirk. You raise your chin and try to level your gaze at him as you try to collect yourself.

Hey, this is actually a good sign , a part of you realizes. There’s something almost close to playful in the way he’s looking at you right now. He’s already in a far better mood than he was yesterday . This is working for him.

You roll your shoulders and take a defensive stance, silently gesturing for him to strike first, and this time he actually grins.

Breakfast afterwards is its own task. You’ve gotten your appetite back this morning, but only when you forget everything except your own hunger and especially try your best to ignore the man at the head of the table. You’ll try to bury what you know about the Baron for now, or at least try to act like he doesn’t disgust you. Not that he’d care what you think of him, not like you can do anything about it.

Instead you wonder about what motherhood looks like on this planet. You’ll not want for anything, you’re sure, in terms of space for the baby and help raising it, but you hope the Baron isn’t an indicator of how children are raised here. You haven’t seen many children in the Fortress–the sons and daughters of captains and generals, you’re sure–and you haven’t interacted with any. Feyd-Rautha mentioned military and combat training for any sons you’ll have but what about general schooling?

When the children come, surely you’ll be a part of their lives somehow? You’ll make certain of it. You have to; they’ll be raised in the Harkonnen culture but they’ll still be half you , and you’ll do everything to make sure they never forget that, where you come from and the half of them that you represent.

“Not too tired from your training session, are you?” Feyd-Rautha asks, and you realize that you’ve been drifting off, staring into the distance. You hadn’t expected him to notice.

“Oh, no, husband,” you tell him. “Just lost in thought. Actually, I was curious about where one might put a nursery in the private quarters.” Not that there would’ve been any use for them within the royal family in decades, but surely there must have been something installed before?

As soon as Feyd starts to answer, the Baron interrupts, “What are you training her for?”

“Just in the event of an emergency or ambush, I want her to be prepared to defend herself. If the time ever comes that I’m not there to do it for her,” Feyd-Rautha adds.

The Baron looks at him with those beady blue eyes. “You really think such a thing will ever happen, boy?” he asks, and there’s an undercurrent to his tone that makes you look away, never mind that they’ve started talking about you as if you aren’t there.

Boy . As if not just Feyd’s title but his very manhood is a privilege his uncle bestows on him that he can revoke at a moment’s notice.

Feyd ignores the taunt. “Just planning ahead,” he says. It doesn’t come back up. When you excuse yourself to use the bathroom the Baron doesn’t react when you come back. He barely seems to notice you’re there.

To him, you are not family. You are the orifice his handsome young nephew buries himself in and the birthing canal that will add to the Harkonnen lineage, but not a real person who’s earned any familiarity with him nor will you ever be. That suits you just fine and you find that you’d rather he ignore you than pay any special attention to you, just so long as he never gets to sink his claws into your future children.

Speaking of which, “The Fortress has everything you could need,” Feyd says. “Our children will have their own quarters and plenty of staff to watch over them.”

And how about allowing me to watch over them? you want to ask, but won’t, especially since you’re not alone. Or do ladies of leisure outsource all of that here? Idrisa will know; you’ll save your real questions for her.

After breakfast Feyd-Rautha offers you his arm. “I imagine you’re interested in the relaxation chambers now?” he asks. “They provide massages. Great for the joints.”

“I could be persuaded,” you tell him, feeling not just sore from earlier this morning but from two days ago. You’d never considered yourself a lazy person but you’ve also never committed to any kind of daily training regimen and the nighttime and occasionally additional morning routines in the bedroom certainly haven’t helped.

“It’s interesting,” you tell him, “training with you and seeing how you do it, even if I’m not there for all of it.”

“That wasn’t my last training session for the day,” he says. “I’m going back soon.”

You blink. “Why?” you ask him. He’d clearly started early and gotten his heart pumping by the time you’d arrived.

“To be as physically prepared as I can for the arena showing on my birthday. It’s less than three weeks away at this point,” he says.

You look over at him with your brows furrowed. What does he really need extra preparation for? He’s in no danger, there’s no real risk.

He seems to understand your confusion. “It’s important that I look like I'm in top form,” he explains, which just presents further questions.

How will they even know what your body looks like? If it’s anything like last time, you’ll be the only fighter in the arena that’s fully dressed .

“Well, alright,” you finally. You look back at him. “So you’re going to have to get changed again into training gear, and then shower again and change again after that?”

“Yes,” he says, voice curt. “Appearance is important here.”

Yours is, certainly , you don’t tell him. But you do realize that your uncle’s still the Baron and he floats around in his suspensor chair wearing a long nightgown? If he’s ever cared about his appearance, he must’ve stopped years ago . You suppose that it’s one of many ways that Feyd’s turned out differently from him, although not the most important. It’s not for nothing that even though you have no idea how he’ll turn out as a parent–yet another thing that scares you about this–he still won��t be as bad of a parental figure as his uncle.

He looks at you for a moment and you realize that you haven’t spoken and have just enough sense to realize that giving a simpering compliment about his looks will come across as not only disingenuous but suspicious. “My apologies,” you admit. “I was just thinking about what expectations will be placed on our children.”

“Our son, although we’ll need more than one, will embody all Harkonnen core values: power, ambition, resilience, intellect. I’ll accept no less and neither will anyone else on Geidi Prime,” he says. How long has he been thinking about fatherhood, you wonder? Or is he repeating what he’s been told time and time again what the Baron wants out of him?

“And if one of our children is a daughter?” you ask, hoping that doesn’t happen. It’s bad enough to be a man on this planet.

“She’ll be expected to be gracious, discreet, and always careful and cognizant of her surroundings,” Feyd says. “She’ll be composed even under pressure and adaptable.”

You try to absorb this, wondering how much he thinks you fit that mold yourself and assuming that you come up short. “I thought the first word you were going to say was fertile ,” you tell him.

“That goes without saying,” he says. “It’ll be her greatest contribution to the family to add to its lineage.”

I think you just described my responsibilities and expectations here, you think as he escorts you to the relaxation chambers.

Before he leaves he gives you a brief kiss–a little reward, perhaps, for minding yourself. “You’re learning,” is all he says.

You’d expected the rooms to have the same austere black and gray background as the Dining Halls, the Throne Room, even the bedrooms, but whatever materials used for the doors and panels emulate the colors and patterns of cedar even though you doubt it’s real wood and the textured walls are painted a warm, pale cream. It feels like a different environment entirely, reminiscent of the women’s bathhouses on your home planet. The attendant inside recognizes you immediately, although you assume that it’s hardly a challenge. “ You can’t mistake the Na-Baroness ,” you’re sure servants tell each other, “ she’s the only one in this Fortress with hair. ”

Most of the attendants are women, and again most of them seem young, hardly more than girls.

“Welcome, Na-Baroness. We do so hope that you enjoy our accommodations,” the first attendant says, her head in a respectful decline as she curtsies. “How may we be of service today?”

When you tell her that you were hoping for a simple massage because your joints have been feeling stiff she reacts as though you’ve told her that all your bones have shattered.

“I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been in discomfort, Na-Baroness,” she says. “We’ll make sure to ease all aches and pains.”

As she guides you away and towards a private room you sense people looking at you and notice a couple of higher-ranking women in dressing robes, undoubtedly here for a bit of relaxation themselves. As soon as you look over at them, they glance away, pretending that they’re looking off into the distance. You want to stop, walk over, and introduce yourself to them ( they know who you are, though. Everyone knows that the Na-Baron just married an arranged non-Harkonnen bride from another planet ) but you don’t get the chance. Instead you tear your gaze away to follow the attendant to another room with what you must assume is a synthetic material that effectively mimics the appearance and grain pattern of wood, complete with a changing station, a table with oils and towels, and in the middle a covered massage table with a servant on either side who bow as soon as you enter.

It’s an interesting experience, to be sure. The servants attending to you are quiet and gracious, but you’re made starkly aware again of your foreignness.

Your hair confuses them, for one thing. They look at and touch it as if they’re not sure whether or not they think it’s attractive when you've spent your entire life before Geidi Prime being told that it’s beautiful. They’re gentle with you, careful when undressing you and guiding you to a massage table. When kneading oil into your sore muscles they treat you as if you’re delicate, even though they’re smaller than you are. They work silently, your own muffled moans when they work out a particularly sore spot the only sounds other than the ambient mist coming from the next room.

You wonder at first if it’s because they only speak Harkonnen and not the Imperial Standard, but as they’re getting finished one of the young women–probably not much older than you, although it’s still difficult to tell without any hair or eyebrows to better indicate her age–timidly asks, “Would the Na-Baroness like to be given stimulation as part of her massage?”

You blink, not sure you heard correctly, and raise yourself up on your elbows. “Stimulation?” you repeat, brow furrowing.

“Some people enjoy other kinds of massage as a form of relief, Na-Baroness. We’d be honored to indulge you if you prefer,” she says, looking down the moment you look up.

I’m still lost , you almost tell her before it sinks in. “Oh!” you say, the single word slipping out. The woman flinches, undoubtedly worried that she’s offended you. It’s probably why she hasn’t said a word this entire time; she has no idea how to talk to you, what you would consider appropriate or not, and would rather not speak at all than risk saying the wrong thing. You gape for a moment before managing, “No thank you. A-a normal massage is plenty.”

She bows. “Very well, Na-Baroness. Is there anything else we can do in service to you?”

You’d been curious about the other rooms but suddenly you wish for nothing more than to leave. “No thank you, not today. The massage was all I needed.”

“It was our pleasure, Na-Baroness. We are at your disposal,” the woman says, words you’ve already heard multiple times. “Let us help you redress.”

They gently wipe off any excess oil with damp washcloths and dry you off before guiding you back into your clothes as if scared they’ll hurt you, or rather, scared that you’ll say something that gets them in trouble. Even a foreign woman commands fear if she’s married to the right Harkonnen, even if she’s never going to be a true Harkonnen herself and whether they’re scared of you because of who you’re married to or also because of who you are, it makes no difference.

In spite of everything, when you get back to your quarters you realize that physically, you feel great ; better than you have since your wedding. You feel pliant and loose-limbed, your skin soft and supple. In theory it should give you all the energy you need to continue your studies of this planet and its language.

But your self-imposed Harkonnen lessons aren’t holding your attention; the grammar structure is fairly simple, and you’ve learned a few basic words and phrases (and obscenities, because you’re pretty sure that that’s most of what Feyd-Rautha grunts in your ear when he’s fucking you) and you can’t help your restlessness as you settle back in your chair.

You tap your fingertips against your desk, mind wandering to your husband, your body remembering with a throb how he feels inside you. You’re getting used to it more and more, for the most part even learning to enjoy it.

He might be coming back from his second training session soon. Maybe he’s already come back and is taking his second shower or bath of the day. Maybe you’ll ask him about his armoire, which he hasn’t opened for you since that first night, but, and you pause, thinking it over, picturing him sweaty from his training, and think, no. The armoire can wait. If you want to improve your seduction game, you can start by being the one to initiate your encounters. You can start now.

You strip again, wondering how he’ll react to you entering his chambers. Hopefully amenable to it; he probably won’t dismiss you if you come to him like this. If nothing else he has an incentive to put a baby in you, you think as you wrap yourself up in one of your robes and pad over to your bathroom.

You press your ear to the door joining your bathroom to his. The water’s running: he must be showering. You wait, heart pounding, thinking, It will be fine. Think about this morning; he seemed reasonably happy with you this morning.

You shut your eyes for a moment, take a breath, and open the door.

He’s standing in the middle of his shower, his eyes on you from the moment you step inside. He turns the water off and watches you silently, eyes falling to your robe. He must be fully aware of the fact that you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Sorry to interrupt, husband,” you say, hoping that your intuition is correct. “I was just…” bored? Interested in your company? Curious about how else you decompress after training? You swallow, fiddling with the sash of your robe.

Feyd says nothing at first as he steps out of the shower and onto the soft mat on the black granite floor. Any words you have die before they can reach your lips as he steps in closer and the height difference between you feels vaster than it’s felt before.

His eyes flicker to your robe. “Take that off,” he says.

You look him in the eye, raising your chin slightly as you unfasten the sash around your waist and brush the robe off your shoulders and onto the floor, presenting yourself for him as naked as the day you were born. The two of you stand in silence for a moment; he’s dripping wet and you’re, well…you bite your lip and hesitate before reaching out, wrist turning as you wrap a hand around him. You feel awkward in the ensuing silence, brushing your thumb over the tip of him and glancing between his face and his cock, breath catching in your throat as you see the way his gaze darkens. You open your mouth to speak but find yourself at a loss for words.

It doesn’t occur to you that he might prefer this to any polished seduction or that he likes your nerves, your earnestness. That you've come to him as if yesterday never happened and like he's a whole intact man with no buried shame. He stiffens rapidly under your touch, silently daring you to keep fondling him. You wonder if it would be worth it to sink to your knees and take him into your mouth–you’ve done it once before as a preamble to the act itself and remember every detail and lesson of it vividly–when Feyd-Rautha starts walking you backwards, backwards, until you reach his bathroom wall and you drop your hand in surprise.

“I…” you start and he silences you with a kiss, gripping the back of your head and tilting your head up to meet him. Once he has you where he wants you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands slide down your sides, over your hips and ass, coming to the backs of your legs, nudging you forward.

“C’mon,” he says, his rasp quiet but commanding in the echoes of his bathroom. You can’t help your nervous laugh as you hop up and he catches you, hands under your thighs that he quickly wraps around his hips, holding you in place as his cock brushes against your folds, your lower belly. It’s filled out and ready and you bite your lip as you think: how to maneuver…?

You glance back up at him and his expectant gaze. Come on, pet, he seems to tell you. You’re a clever little thing, you can figure it out, and so you grip his cock again and position it at your entrance, almost laughing at how two weeks ago you’d have been hard-pressed to know exactly where it is and how to properly penetrate it.

You gasp, head falling forward as you sink down onto him and cry out as he jerks his hips up, filling you the rest of the way. It’s always such a deep ache and stretch when he buries himself in you and you’re never quite given enough time to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving and it feels like he’s so deep in you that can hardly breathe. Every time he picks a new angle to fuck you in it almost shocks you how he seems to find another way to make as though there’s no part of your insides that he hasn’t touched, and you hold onto him, trying to rock back down on him, and finding you can only really cling to him. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair and the tonic you use for it, before pausing, shifting you further onto him, and moving away from the wall. You yelp, tightening your thighs around his waist and wondering what he’ll do next, where he’ll take you.

He carries you, then, out of the bathroom and to his bed where he drops you unceremoniously on your back and following you as you go. You both grunt as he lands on top of you and pushes your legs further back towards your chest and he braces his arms on either side of your head.

It’s hard and rough and fast, your knees pushed back nearly to your shoulders that he spreads wide to make room for his own. Your cries as he pounds into your open, vulnerable body spur him on and he drops his forehead to yours, panting against your mouth. He speaks in the Imperial Standard this time when he says, “Like a little songbird, making pretty noises for me,” and brings his mouth to the juncture of your neck and jaw.

You let out a whine as he continues, his tongue flickering and then lapping at the sensitive skin like he’s done before to your cunt. You gasp and readjust your grip on his shoulders, almost stunned at the visceral reactions he can pull from just that. You’d known it was a sensitive area, had been kissed there before, but especially juxtaposed against the pounding of him inside of you it’s–it’s–

“A -aaah! ” you manage, clenching around him, barely holding on, your legs shaking as he speeds up, his mouth continuing the onslaught. The whimpers that spill out of you escalate and turn to a sharp cry as he bares his teeth and bites down.

He grunts, hips pumping, as he comes inside of you, his teeth and lips on the sensitive skin of your neck and your arms wrapped around him. He gives one final thrust for good measure before dropping his head to your neck, his breath harsh. You hold onto him for a moment as he pauses and pulls out.

Will you let me hold you again? I liked that. I liked when you rested on me and I got to pet you as if you could ever be made docile . You don’t ask, and don’t know how to. He rolls over onto his back.

“I trust that training went well, husband?” you ask instead after you catch your breath and start to come down.

He grunts an affirmative and for a moment you think that’s the end of it. He takes a breath, though, mulling over the silence between the two of you. You wait, sensing his realization that you’d like to hear more. That the two of you can have a normal conversation like a normal married couple. “Sparred with a few of my men, then a couple of criminals in the dungeons. They don’t provide as much of a challenge but it still keeps me alert to practice on someone who actually wants to kill me.”

“They weren’t sedated?” you ask.

He shakes his head, exhaling. “Not these ones. Didn’t want to contaminate their bloodstream,” he says.

You think back to over a week ago, and something Idrisa told you. “So you could safely feed them to your Darlings afterwards?” you ask.

He turns his head to you and you do the same, mirroring him. His full lips part as he mulls your words over. “Now where’d you hear about them?” he asks, clearly trying to think back to a time when he’s mentioned them to you and coming up with nothing.

“Idrisa,” you add when you don’t see any recognition in his eyes at the name, “my personal attendant, mentioned that you had pets that you fed human remains.”

This piques his interest, it seems. He rises up on one elbow, turning to his side, leaning over you. “How did she describe them?” he asks.

You shrug, not sure how that makes a difference. “She didn’t. She just said that you feed human flesh to what you called your Darlings,” you say, not bothering to hide your distaste. You’re not going to pretend to like or condone everything he does; not like it would stop him.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes glint. He breaks into a smile that is equal parts delighted and cruel. “Is that really all she told you?” he says. He doesn’t move a millimeter, but you can sense his growing excitement coiled tight within him like he’s ready to pounce.

“So…what are they? Canine or feline? Or aquatic?” you ask, not sure if you want to know or get a more specific image but asking all the same.

Feyd-Rautha looks at you as though you’ve given him the greatest gift he didn’t even have to ask for. “Would you like to meet them?” he asks instead of answering your question.

No, of course not , you want to tell him. I have no interest in meeting a bunch of animals who devour people whole . “Sure. Why not,” you say.

His black teeth and gums are unnerving against the pallor of the rest of him before his smile turns closed-mouthed again into a smirk.

When you’ve both dressed and left his chambers, you assume that he’s going to lead you to a dungeon, but he instead starts walking down a corridor not far from the private wing.

“I’d keep them closer,” he says over his shoulder, “but they make such a mess.”

So a pool or a moat would be out of the question, but a shark tank is still feasible , you think.

He reaches a door, and the first moment you step inside and see what’s on the padded platform in front of you, you want to roll your eyes and walk back out.

So he’s taken me on a detour first to meet his concubines , you think.

Three naked, lithe, bald-headed women lie curled up sleeping, nestled against one another like a pile of kittens. You raise your eyebrows, letting out an irritated huff. You should’ve known that he keeps concubines; most leaders from Major Houses do. It’s just that he’d seemed so preoccupied with you that you’d almost forgotten that very possibility. These are the women he normally slakes his lust with and what he’ll go back to once you’ve confirmed that you’re carrying his seed. You have a snide remark on the tip of your tongue about how nice it is to meet the other women he fucks.

But then you notice that there’s blood drying on their hands, caking their sharp-nailed fingertips and you realize what the smell of the iron tang that permeated the air really is. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s going on?” you say aloud to no answer.

The women stir, and then they open their eyes. They have neither pupils nor irises. Pure ink black, stares, unthinking, back at you.

When you first met him you’d been quick to assume that Feyd-Rautha lacked all humanity beyond his physical form, but this is what it truly looks like when a person has no human essence. You’re not sure what they’re seeing when they look at you but they perceive nothing except the sight of warm meat.

Abomination! Abomination! you think, too frozen to scream it out loud, the sound of it only coming out of you in a pitiful squeak when they start to move, clambering towards you.

Oh, Great Mother, they move like animals, on all fours . One of them opens her mouth, teeth and gums as black as her master’s but her teeth are sharpened into fangs she bares in what may be a smile, may be a snarl.

Oh, fuck this.

You turn and start to run when Feyd-Rautha holds his arm out to grab you around the chest and pull you to his side as he says something in Harkonnen that you try to grasp.

Something-something woman something-something food. Okay, that was a negation. He’s saying something like “she’s not food.” You gasp and dig your nails into his forearm, unable to look away from them, the way they tilt their heads at you.

You can hear them hiss and chatter, put out that he hasn’t presented them with a meal, and you realize that they’re speaking in neither the Imperial Standard nor Harkonnen battle-language but a vague imitation of human speech.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? ” you say aloud, struggling in Feyd-Rautha’s grip, watching as they scurry closer to the two of you, sniffing at you in particular.

You stare at the fathomless depths of their unblinking black eyes and how they tilt their heads, even their curiosity utterly fucking terrifying.

“You said you wanted to meet my Darlings,” Feyd-Rautha says in a satisfied tone. “Don’t be rude. They like you.” He says something in Harkonnen to the women that you can’t decipher, and their chattering ceases and demurs into near-purring.

One of them sniffs and nuzzles at your stomach and you flinch, wondering how quick she’d be to open her mouth and take a bite of your sensitive skin if her master allowed it. Your stomach that within a few months will swell with Feyd-Rautha’s heir. Does she understand what any of that means? Do any of them?

How naive you were, thinking that he kept animals as his pets, normal women as his concubines. How silly and childish to think that he wouldn’t be as much of a degenerate as you feared.

Just when I think I’ve adjusted to this insane planet I see something even worse.

Feyd-Rautha closes the door and directs his gaze up and down the length of your body, the tremors in your hands, your entire body shaking, in fact, and settles on your face. He says nothing, waits for you to go first.

“What…” you bring a hand to your forehead, hoping that this is a nightmare, “ are they?”

He doesn’t smirk but you can sense his satisfaction. He undoubtedly gets some entertainment out of each time he gets to introduce someone new to his Darlings, or rather, inflict his Darlings on them. He probably doesn’t get the opportunity as often as he’d like. “They’re a Bene Tleilax experiment,” he says. “They thought we might enjoy them.”

“Why would they…” commit a crime against nature like this?

“Because they can,” he says.

“Then why have them?” you ask.

He looks at you as if you’re the unreasonable one. “They already exist, and I’ve found some use for them.”

As his concubines . “So you…” you feel nauseous at the idea, barely able to say it aloud, “...fuck them?”

Your shoulders sag with relief when you he says, “No, I don’t fuck them, Y/N. They’re nice to look at but it would be akin to fucking a wild animal. They can be entertaining, though. And they’re a decent tool for intimidation.”

Entertaining . You could use hundreds of words to describe what you just saw and the wretched nature of their existence and entertaining would not be one of them.

Still, you realize what he means. His menagerie needs to eat to stay alive, and it provides incentive to stay on the Na-Baron’s good side. No one wants to end up as food. And how many men can honestly say, “ If you don’t do as I say I’m going to feed you to the trio of feral cannibal women I keep in my Fortress” ? It’s a far more unique and memorable threat than any you’ve heard.

So they’re not his concubines; you don’t believe for one moment that he’d care enough to lie to you about that, which just makes you wonder where his real concubines are. “Who were you fucking before I was assigned to you? I wasn’t your first.”

Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirk up for a moment in a brief almost-smile. “There are times when people see me in the arena and want to know if I’m as much of a brute as I seem,” he says.

“Are you? With them?” You haven’t forgotten that he’s expected to be better-behaved with you than he probably would be with someone else. Someone potentially disposable.

His expression is carefully neutral as he seems to think on how much he wants to frighten you some more or how much he’ll let your own imagination do the work. “I give them what they’re looking for,” he says after a moment.

You glance back over at the door. How many people whisper about his trio of naked women the way they keep their head down about the Baron? Does that not bother him, how people who know about this undoubtedly think, If he’s willing to stick his cock into them , what else is he capable of?

“You do know that calling them your Darlings, having them naked like this–it makes it seem like you have sex with them,” you tell him.

Feyd-Rautha looks unsurprised and unmoved. “They can be sedated into being dressed sometimes. It’s just too cumbersome to try and change them every day,” he says. “Besides, people can think what they want,” he says. “I don’t care, just as long as they fear my name.”

Very Harkonnen of you , you think. “What are their names?” you ask instead.

He seems amused by the question. “Didn’t bother. They don’t need them,” he says.

You look back at the door. They can’t always have been like this, could they? “Did they not have names once? Before…this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “They won’t remember.”

You can’t help but stare at him when he says that. These were people once , you don’t need to tell him because he doesn’t care. You don’t know what to say to him; the words dry up in your throat. Here you were trying to bring out the human side to him when you get a stark reminder that for many people that side of him doesn’t exist. You try to remember how the Reverend Mother assured you that he has weaknesses that you can use, just like any other man. How he has his own, albeit twisted, moral code and sense of honor.

Count yourself lucky that it extends to you, you think.

You don’t like yourself very much when you think about it, the palpable fear he instills in everyone he thinks he can readily discard, and the fact that you’ve already decided that you’ll do your best to overlook it, for now anyways. You have yourself and your future child to look after first.

#dune part 2 #dune 2 #feyd rautha #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd x you #austin butler

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fruitageoforanges · 1 year

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i think one of the things i find compelling about rhaegar is that he’s a very good example of how selfish and destructive a martyr complex is. from what we know, it doesn’t feel like his obsession with the prophecy was overtly egotistical — less ‘i’m great ergo i’m the prince that is promised’, more ‘oh fuck, if this is true then unless i do these very specific things everyone and everything i know is doomed’.

and yet. there’s still something selfish about that. about assuming you have to be the one to solve the world’s problems. even when it eats you up, even when it isn’t some glorious purpose but a terrible shadow hanging over you. to assume you’re the only person who can do something — and, ironically, in trying to fulfil the prophecy and prevent the destruction of everyone he lover, he doomed pretty much all of them.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #rhaegar targaryen #to be clear this is just my interpretation #but i find it so interesting #and a very good example of how self-destructive behaviours are still selfish and destroy other people #i think the proverbial coin teetered more towards madness in his case #and by that i mean a combination of hereditary mental illness #general ominous narrative fuckery re: summerhall #and having aerys as a father #created a unique cocktail of awful that was destined to end somewhere tragic #also to be clear: not at all interested in rhaelya. that’s not fucking romantic. it’s creepy.

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rendevok · 10 months

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favorite thing ♡

the inspo:

aaaaand some inner dialogue for your viewing pleasure:

#narumitsu #wrightworth #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #just so we’re clear on what’s what: the MAIN joke is that phoenix is disagreeing with him #what his favorite thing IS… well.. i’ll leave that up to you (but you can read my thoughts later in tags)#fan art #ace attorney #aa #rendoodles #weirdly proud of how these turned out despite how uncleaned they still are #one of my interpretations of this would be Phoenixs favorite thing isn’t disagreeing with Miles but rather the faces he makes when he does #you could also go for the sappy ‘you’re my favorite thing’ or the less so ‘your ASS is my favorite thing’#truly the options are limitless. please let your imagination fly like the wind

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umbrvx · 5 months

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#omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient readers viewpoint #orv #yoo joonghyuk #yjh #im artblocked but i had to squeeze something in before the end of the year so help me god #edit: i just realized the figures can be construed as kdj. to be clear my intent was for it to all be yjh #BUT i think since its a bit ambiguous anyways u can interpret it as ud like/prefer #i dont really like telling ppl how to interpret my work but.... im adding this note in case

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donttellunclesam · 1 year

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flagging and other such shenanigans

(close ups under the cut)

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things fanart #stranger things season 4 #steddie #hanky code #the hanky colors are my headcanons :p in 1986 they wouldn't have clear meanings like the chart that pops up when u google hanky code BUT #i just made this for funsies and to let him be goofy #started off w just him standing but i thought the clown makeup was funny AND THEN he needed a smoke w his hair pushed back #also u can interpret the yellow as piss but i intended it to be for spitting #doesnt matter either way– he's nasty for a 20y/o virgin #dtus art

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merilles · 6 days

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The Drowned Queen

"And last of all the mounting wave, green and cold and plumed with foam, climbing over the land, took to its bosom Tar-Míriel the Queen, fairer than silver or ivory or pearls..."

~ J.R.R. Tolkien, Akallabêth

#i'm back on my tar miriel brainrot 🩵#i was inspired by the statue undine rising from the waters #so i wanted to practice some wet/transluscent fabric and water effects #i think i took tolkien's description of her too literally and now she looks like a ghost 😭#which is actually perfect since i headcanon her becoming the witch king #*slaps roof of car* this baby can fit so much symbolism in it!!!#the silmarillion #silm #akallabeth #numenor #tar miriel #wk!tar miriel #art #fan art #my art #merilles #(i would like to be clear this is just my version of her)#(i love trop's tar miriel - my interpretation is different is all!)

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rollercoasterwords · 2 months

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ok personal top 5 least favorite responses 2 lambpost:

1. terfs going ‘woman moment’ -> your politics are rooted in a fundamental reinvestment in the very sex binaries that undergird patriarchal power & your analysis of this post is shallow & mean-spirited. immediate block

2. ‘get therapy LOL’ -> health itself is a social construct as is mental health & therapy is not a neutral institution. your assumption that anything deemed strange/abnormal/uncomfortable must be the result of an emotional state in need of ‘fixing’ indicates a lack of critical self-reflection as to how and within what institutional confines your own ideas about what is ‘normal’ & ‘healthy’ have developed

3. ‘wait is this deep & meaningful or is it weird & horny i can’t tell’ -> your inability to reconcile the fact that the erotic can be meaningful & the grotesque sexual paired with your assumption that art must have a single, fundamental True meaning is tiresome

4. ‘oh yeah well i’m NOT the priest’s favorite sacrificial lamb because i bite & kick & fight back’ etc etc -> ok. why r u on the priest’s favorite sacrificial lamb post then

5. ‘clearly the Actual Meaning of this post is X & anyone interacting w it in a different way is a freak/brain damaged/incapable of critical thought/etc’ -> do u enjoy the pedestal u have built for urself. does it make u feel special.

personal top 5 favorite responses 2 lambpost:

1. this comic by @honeyedheartss -> beautiful & i am always thinking abt it <3

2. these tags by @unclemagnemite -> genuinely a fresh & fun interpretation i had not considered which added something new 2 my own experience of a post i wrote. also very funny

3. people making webweave posts w supernatural & succession characters -> this is what social media is meant for. also ur so right that character is definitely the priest’s favorite sacrificial lamb…

4. this fanart by @penaltyboxboxbox -> idk who that man is or why he’s the favorite sacrificial lamb but i think it’s so cool how his guts r out

5. this comment on tiktok -> let’s all hold hands & become alpha wolfs. together <3

#lambpost #have read so many comments on so many different social media platforms over the past 48 hrs. this is my main takeaway #also 2 be clear not trying 2 say people aren’t allowed 2 be annoying abt lambpost obv that just comes w sharing art…#like yeah u can interpret it & take from it whatever u want. however sometimes i will think it’s annoying lmao #txt

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hualianisms · 6 months

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Not father & son, not master & disciple, but a secret third thing

First of all, let me preface this by being clear that everyone is free to headcanon anything they want and like/dislike anything they like/dislike! That being said, sometimes I see international fans interpret FDB as LLH's son, or their dynamic as parent-child or otherwise familial, and as a native chinese speaker, I just wanted to share some reasons why I personally did not interpret them as familial.

Granted, at the start of the show, FDB is kept in the dark and also not up to LLH's level of skill in solving cases. However, FDB quickly catches up in crime-solving skills, intellect and maturity by the 2nd half of the show, after a well-written growth arc. I think the beauty of the characters and relationships in this show is that they grow & evolve, and are meant to do so. The dynamic that LLH & FDB had in episode 1 is quite different from their dynamic at the end of the show. By the later episodes, they are 2 adults who are very much equals.

Why I don't read them as father & son:

LLH & FDB act and speak in a manner that is far too informal & familiar with one another, which would be extremely inappropriate for any kind of parent & child, even a surrogate one. Several times, FDB calls LLH by just his first name "Lianhua", and sometimes even calls him "Damn Lianhua" when he is angry/upset at LLH. This would be extremely rude for a disciple to call a master, or a son to call a father. No son talks to his father the way FDB talks to LLH, and no disciple talks to their master like that. Unless the son/disciple hates the father/master, and is outright rejecting his father/master altogether. As we see in the show, not only does FDB not hate LLH at all, he instead cares deeply for LLH and would do anything to save him. Why, then would someone scold/curse someone they care about? Does the trope of the upset spouse/partner sound familiar?

For comparison, see FDB's interactions with He Xiaohui, who he is close to - he is informal & affectionate with her, but never calls her anything other than "娘 niang" ("mother"). I can't emphasize enough how taboo it is in Chinese culture to ever call your parent or parental figure by their name under any circumstance.

2. In ep 31, FDB himself explicitly rejects the idea of LLH as his shifu and himself as LLH's disciple, responding that he is too old to be LLH's disciple and it was merely a joke. He clearly sees LLH as an equal, and rejects the notion of their relationship being anything other than that of 2 adult equals. LLH also tells his shiniang that FDB is not his disciple, and a few episodes ago LLH told FDB that he has never understimated FDB.

Coding/hints as something other than platonic:

Zhiji/zhijiao - FDB calls LLH his 知交 zhijiao in ep 19, and 知己 zhiji in ep 34. "In this life, I, Fang Duobing, recognize you as my only zhiji." is practically a love declaration. And this bond is reciprocated by LLH, bc in a deleted line in ep 19, translated by forayuarchive on twitter, LLH is the one who first calls FDB his zhijiao.

To clarify, Zhiji is not specifically a romantic term, but it's what was used in both The Untamed and Word of Honor - both dramas based on danmei novels with canon gay main pairings - to bypass censorship, to code the bond between the main duo as deeper than your typical platonic male friendship. (See this post for a detailed explanation of the significance/history behind the term zhiji, and see this twitter thread for an explanation of the meaning of zhijiao in MLC - especially how zhijiao is specifically mutual, reciprocated).

2. Married bickering - forayuarchive on twitter has discussed in these twitter threads how the tone of many of LLH & FDB's interactions (especially FDB) is similar to how married couples or romantic partners speak to one another bc of the level of familiarity, tone and language. For my fav example, see this note (translation by forayuarchive) that FDB left LLH in ep 35, which reads pretty much like a note that a spouse/partner might write when leaving their shared house in a hurry.

3. "Xiaobao" - Personally as a native Chinese speaker, LLH calling FDB "xiaobao" in front of everyone is a level of intimacy that genuinely would make me feel embarrassed to hear as a third party. 小宝 xiao bao (literal meaning = "little treasure") is usually something you call actual babies/children AND is FDB's family nickname for him, so if you're calling a grown man that in front of everyone including his colleagues, family and even strangers, then one might assume he is likely either your biological family or your romantic partner. (For comparison, just imagine calling your s/o their parent's special childhood nickname for them at work.)

4. Deleted lines where FDB calls LLH "xiaohua'er". 小花儿 Xiaohua'er ("little flower") is very intimate and feels like something someone might call a lover. Or, at least, definitely not a platonic shifu, even less so a parental figure. (For meta on the names that LLH & FDB use for one another, see forayuarchive's twitter thread.)

5. More deleted scenes (translated by forayuarchive on twitter), perhaps cut due to censorship, which make apparent LLH's high regard and deep care for FDB. For e.g., a line of internal monologue by LLH in ep 40, translated here by forhenjun, shows that LLH thinks of FDB as the only person in his two lifetimes who has always treated him as a human being rather than putting him on an unfair pedestal.

6. Official MLC accounts act like as if they ship them.

As murderedbyhomework mentioned, there is a song in the official soundtrack of MLC called "Fanghua's Day-to-Day Life" (yes, the exact same words as their ship name). Sounds like a couple's daily domestic life, doesn't it?

The official iQiYi Romance youtube channel lists clips of LLH & FDB under the romance category.

The official MLC douyin account posts MVs with emotional captions (e.g. this one translated here by forayuarchive) that emphasize how much both LLH and FDB mean to one another. Another official MLC douyin calls LLH & FDB the person each other trusts the most.

The MLC clips posted by the official Guangdong TV weibo account also has captions such as these (translated by rice_jpg) that straight up describe FDB's feelings towards LLH as "when you like someone" (very similar CN phrasing as the phrasing used to describe romantic crushes).

7. They are subtly paralleled with a canon straight romantic couple (see fanqxiaobao's twitter thread on the parallels btwn LXY/QWM scenes and certain LLH/FDB scenes). MLC also made a distinct change from the novel by not having FDB get married to Princess Zhaoling, even though the drama could have easily given FDB a romance with her.

8. If you're familiar with chinese romantic tropes or the danmei genre, LLH & FDB fit many common romantic tropes e.g. sharing a drink on the rooftop under the moonlight, forgotten first meeting in childhood (and then meeting again properly as adults), power couple fighting side by side (they even held hands!), nianxia, protective younger ml, sickly older mc - just to name a few. Danmei even has many stories of shizun/shifu & disciple pairings who fall in love as adult equals.

There's honestly lots more but these are just some off the top of my head. Again everyone is free to interpret anything! This is just me explaining why as a native chinese speaker I personally did not read their dynamic as that of a father and son.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #li lianhua #fang duobing #fanghua #mlc meta #ik i alr made a post abt this but i just wanted to compile everything tgth in one post for my own ref too #full credit to the ops of the sources linked for the translations and meta!!#let me be very clear this is not me telling anyone to ship fanghua!! everyone is free to do/not do whatever they want; fandom is free #and to clarify this is not against feihua/ot3 at all; i multiship too #this post is solely about the 'fdb is llh's son' take #just explaining why shipping them is a valid interpretation given certain nuances in their portrayal

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